


Fatherhood and other dreams

by Theiicarus



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, No Fluff, One Shot, Sad, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 21:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19259563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theiicarus/pseuds/Theiicarus
Summary: Originally planned this on father's day but didn't get the time to finish. So happy late father's day to Arthur. Enjoy the very short sad fic





	Fatherhood and other dreams

Arthur couldn't help but see as Jack presented John with a flower crown made of yarrow and a paper with a picture scribbled on it. Well that solved the mystery of where Arthur's missing pencil went. He sighed to himself, not watching long enough to see John's reaction. 

Arthur stood up from his cot and walked towards his favourite seat on the edge of the cliff. He stayed silent, not bothering to make conversation with anyone in camp as he went. He didn't feel like talking to anyone right now, he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

Arthur found peace on his little seat at the edge of the cliff, from there he'd watch birds fly by and a variety of wildlife that ran under him. He enjoyed the peaceful moments of life. It was hard having Jack in camp now, he brought back too many memories that Arthur tried not to think about. He saw his own son in Jack, and that left a sharp pain in Arthur’s chest. He missed the opportunity to be a good father and he regretted every moment of it.

He reached into his worn leather jacket, pulling out a crumpled old piece of paper. The page looked like it was going to fall apart, it was stained, faded and ripping, but Arthur didn't care about that, it was special to him, something he wanted to keep. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked at the once vibrant coloured drawing of himself with his done, titled 'Papa Arthur'. 

How could he let something so terrible happen. Not a day passed when Arthur didn't blame himself for what happened to Isaac, he should have been there to protect them. Arthur was always his happiest with Isaac, he was his son and he loved him. 

When he saw the grave stones he stumbled off his horse and collapsed just before reaching them. Tears fell from his eyes quicker than he could comprehend. He promised he would visit again and spend more time with him. Arthur's whole body ached with sadness. He felt horrible remembering his last moments with Isaac.

Before he left that day Isaac was clinging to Arthur’s leg, whining playfully for Arthur to stay. He giggled as Arthur played along, pretending to try and kick him off, they were both smiling and happy. Arthur was only young, he didn’t know too much about raising a kid and he certainly couldn’t have known about what would happen. 

“Don’t leave Pa, I have a gift for you.” Isaac said through copious giggles.

“You got something for me?” Arthur was a little shocked, he didn’t expect Isaac to give him anything. 

Isaac hummed to confirm. “Ma said I should give it to you.” He let go of Arthur’s leg and reached into his overall’s pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. 

Arthur’s eyes widened as he was presented with a stick figure picture of himself holding Isaac’s hand, he knew it was him because Isaac had drawn his hat and given himself a smaller version of his hat, it was drawn messily in colour pencil. Arthur grinned wide, gently taking the picture and folding it to put in his internal jacket pocket. 

“I love it, I ain’t never goin’ anywhere without it.” Arthur grinned more as Isaac jumped on him to give him one last hug before he left. 

“Come back soon, I’m gonna draw more stuff like you!” Isaac beamed.

“I promise, I’ll bring something back for you too.” Arthur smiled.

He returned a month later but a few weeks too late. 

He managed to keep his first promise to Isaac, he never went anywhere without his drawing, it was always in one of his pockets or his satchel. The colour faded as the years passed by but arthur always kept it, it meant the world to him. A single tear fell onto the page as he put it away. Isaac meant the world to him.


End file.
